


we are made of such stuff

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff, M/M, Sea Monsters, Superpowers, atypical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-22 17:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: Everybody gets to be a hero.





	1. Chapter 1

The monsters came, and then they went, and they came again.

They met at a conference in 2015 (unless you rewind- cut back- change the footage and see that they met through each other’s work; Newt’s on atypical biology compared to Kaiju defense systems, and Hermann’s on the quantum mechanical nature of the breach).

Newt kind of half-understood Hermann’s part, but what he could was super-mega-holy shit- _amazing_ and fascinating, and oh mein Gott he has _got_ to write to this guy.

So he did, on his fanciest stationary with his nicest pen, hoping this brilliant man on the other side of the ocean would write back. 

Hermann did, in fact, a long and interested letter that smelled faintly of chalk dust and warm candle wax. Newt hugged it to his chest and smiled.

Dear Dr. Gottleib, 

Hey! You wrote back! I wondered if you would; you seemed so busy when I read about you. Which, yeah, I’ll admit, I looked you up. Did you know you have literally no online presence? Aside from a couple of articles (which I read and _loved_ ), there’s nothing. You should get a twitter. I would love to see you go at it with flat Earthers.

With what you said about your telekinesis: I feel that. I have a theory concerning abilities that allow for contact with objects via makeshift limbs, which I myself have. The same sensation that creates a phanto pain in people with lost limbs could also create the feeling of touch in people with those powers. Have you preformed any experiments of that generality?

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

Dear Dr. Geiszler,

I have, in fact, preformed a number of experiments concerning my telekenesis and procuring objects with it. It indeed matches the sensation you described, although I am curious how you managed to pinpoint it so exactly. If I may be so bold, what is your ability?

In concern to my presence on social media (or rather, my lack thereof), I find myself without the time, I’m afraid. I did, I admit, search for you as well, and was quite amused at what I found. Your opinionated battles with those of a lesser caliber are charming to say the least.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

Newt was surprised at the genial nature of the letter (and a little flirtatious? Maybe?), and eagerly wrote back again. And again. And once again. He kept his powers vague as he always did, but secretly wondered if Hermann would perhaps be more accepting than the average person. 

Of course, then they met, and that didn’t happen.

Hermann had gawked at Newt’s tattoos with open contempt, staring disgustedly at the ribbons of color winding around his forearms. He’d had no idea of the power they contained, only they shape they took. 

And so they parted on no less than animostic terms. 

Contact stopped for a year or two, until they were squished together into the K-Science labs with half a dozen other scientists at the top of their fields, all clamoringto be the one that found the pivitol piece of information that closed the breach.

Of course, Newt knew it was going to be him anyway.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

The way Hermann found out about Newton’s powers went like this:

1\. He was adding yet another data point to his model of the breach, carefully placing it into the system, when a loud, “Shit, where is it?” came from the other side of the lab. With a heavy sigh, Hermann looked up.

“Where is what, Newton?”

Newton rustled around on his workbench, tools and viscera clattering to the floor. “My scalple is gone. Do you see it?”

Hermann did not, in fact, see anything of the sort, but he didn’t need to say that. He simple rolled his eyes and turned around, saying, “I have no idea, Newton. Perhaps if you took better care of your supplies, this wouldn’t happen.”

Newton bristled. “Okay, Hermann, you know what-?”

“Oh what, Newton, what do you think I know?”

“I think you’re being an asshole right now because- oh there it is!”

Newton grinned, and then without seeming to think about it, released a translucent red strip from his arm’s collection of colors and wrapped it around the scalpel, buried under a kaiju tongue. The strip shot back towards his arm, depositing the tool in front of him before slithering back onto his skin.

Hermann stared.

His eyes were glued to Newton’s arms, suddenly noticing the subtle rustle and movement of his tattoos across the surface of his skin. The tiny monsters seemed to glare at him, seconds away from leaping out of the second dimension and bounding across the room.

Newton turned and gave Hermann a questioning look. “What?”

Hermann shook his head quickly and buried his head in the model. “Nothing, Newton. Go back to your mess.”

“Wow, hypocritical, much?”

From the other side of the room, Newton grinned in challenge. _C’mon, man,_ Hermann could almost hear him thinking, _take the bait._

He pushed notions of colorful arms and ink out of his head and tightened his shoulders.

“Only for you, Newton.”

2\. Newton was asleep at his desk again. His glasses were pushed up onto his forehead, nose and mouth smushed against the wood. He looked almost peaceful, ever present worry lines on his face smoothed away. 

Hermann felt his heart do a funny little twist as he stood over him, debating whether or not to wake him. Newton had been working more than usual as of late, pouring over the new data taken from Knifehead’s disastrous attack. His eyes were rimmed with thick, dark circles, and his face was paler than it had been in weeks past. 

With a sigh, Herman made his way over to the couch where they kept a stack of blankets for this very situation. He began to bring one back over to Newt, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed a small movement near the desk.

A tiny creature, no bigger than the palm of his hand, was perched on Newton’s shoulder, kneading his button down with it’s tiny claws. Upon closer examination, Hermann realized it was a miniature Yamarashi, identical to the one on Newton’s arm.

In fact, he realized, it was the one on Newton’s arm. The little kaiju had somehow managed to remove itself from his tattoos, and was now blinking up at Hermann with large, vaguely terrifying eyes. 

Hermann stifled a yelp and stepped back, holding the blanket in front of him. Yamarashi cocked its head to the side and growled softly, as if to say, _Quiet, the human is sleeping_. Then, it curled up into a little ball on Newton’s shoulder, tucked it’s head into its claws, and began to purr.

Cautiously, Hermann took a step forward. Yamarashi opened one eye, but made no move to attack him, so he took another step. Carefully, so as not to disturb both sleepers, he draped the blanket over Newton’s shoulders and folded a little area for the kaiju to nest. It crawled up to his finger slowly, before giving it a delicate sniff. 

Hermann felt a smile creep over his face. “Oh,” he said quietly, “you’re really quite harmless, aren’t you?”

In response, Yamarashi attempted to bite his finger, but Hermann quickly pulled it away. “No!” he hissed, “don’t- stop that!” 

The little kaiju retreated sullenly, curling up again and fluttering it’s tongue at Hermann before closing its eyes.

The tattoo and its owner stayed in the lab long after Hermann left, muttering something about blasted ink monsters not knowing their own place.

3\. The pilot had been aggravating Hermann for a while, but things really became vexing when he began to tap on the ladder.

“Hey,” said Haller, bumping his hip against the structure. “Hey poindexter, what’s that brain of yours say about me, huh? Can your model figure out how I’m gonna do on the simulation tomorrow?” He laughed loudly, causing Hermann to flinch and wish he had another pair of hands to cover his ears.

“If you would please,” he said tightly, “remove your hands from my ladder and get out of my lab. There is actual work to be done here, and your incessant posturing is making that very difficult.”

Haller scowled at him. “Oh, I’m _so sorry_ Dr. Frankenstein, but lemme spell it out for ya: your work ain’t shit. It’s us pilots who are doing to the real saving here, so shut the hell up and get back to the numbers, okay?”

Hermann sucked in a breath, ready to give Haller the verbal beating of a lifetime, but it appeared that Newton had chosen to beat him to it (oh gott, the puns were catching). 

“Hey!” he shouted from across the room, hands gripping the lab table with white knuckles. There was a strange rumble in the air, and Hermann noticed an odd red glow was beginning to surround him.

Haller laughed again. “Oh shit! Is the big, bad kaiju-fucker gonna come over here and defend his boyfriend?”

Newton growled. “Leave Hermann alone you sack of shit. Or I swear to God, I’m gonna make you regret it.”

“You?” Haller placed a meaty hand on his hip. “What the hell could you do to me?”

Then, he gave Hermann a shove.

A colossal roar erupted from the area, the room beginning to shake as a massive figure rose behind Newton. It’s body rippled with scales and spines, mouth opening in a scream to show several rows of razor sharp teeth. The glowing blue eyes of Spinejackle bored into the two men on the other side of room, as 120 decibels of pure “fuck you” roared from behind the tiny Newton.

Who was, in fact, screaming as well. 

Haller let out a terrified yell, scrambling backwards until his back was against the chalkboards. He panted hard, yelling again as Newton took a furious step forward, Spinejackle mirroring his actions. Haller pushed himself off the blackboard, dashing out the door and speeding down the hall, running away from the towering kaiju as fast as possible.

Hermann himself had observed the familiar translucency of the creature, and quickly realized it was one of Newton’s tattoos, once again come to life. He still felt a few tendrils of fear grip his chest, and backed away slowly, aware of the glowing blue nature of Newton’s eyes. Quickly, he levitated a few clipboards in front of him for what little protection they could give. “Newton?” he asked slowly, shivering a little. “Newton, he’s gone. I’m- I’m fine. Are you alright?”

Newton blinked, and suddenly Spinejackle disappeared. His eyes lost their blue glow and glazed over, rolling back into his head as he collapsed towards the floor.

“Newton!” Hermann shouted, rushing forward and catching him with his telekinesis. He looked so frightening vulnerable, hanging limply in the air. Hermann quickly lowered him to the ground, resting Newton’s head on his lap. His eyes were closed for only a few trembling moments before they fluttered open, relief shooting through Hermann like adrenaline. 

“Hermann?” he mumbled, blinking up at him in confusion. “What… what am I doing on the floor?”

“Newton, you idiot,” Hermann whispered, letting himself stroke his hair just a little bit. “What in God’s name did you even do?”

Newton laughed lightly, sounding like he had just run a marathon. “Ink projection, dude. I told you. My powers are all in my tattoos.”

“I- I never thought-”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Newton said, “I know. No one really expects an ability like that. It’s pretty rare, I guess.” He paused. Looking embarrassed. “Could you, uh. Could you give me a hand?”

“Oh!” Hermann said, blushing furiously and quickly helping Newton to a sitting position, propping him against the lab bench. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said a little breathlessly, “yeah, I’m fine. That sort of thing just takes it out of me. How- how are you? Did that asshole-”

“No, Newton, I’m fine. Just a child being childish; I’m sure you’ve experienced that as well.”  
“Cool, cool.”

They sat there in awkward silence for a few moments, Newton catching his breath and Hermann watching as the tattoos on his arms slithered back into place. They danced around his arms, humming happily at their companion returned to its place on Newton’s back.

“Hey,” he said, excitement evident in his voice, “you wanna see something cool?”

Hermann gave him an odd look, but nodded. 

Newton grinned, and reached out for Hermann’s hand. He grabbed it and held it tightly, letting the tiny Onibaba slither onto his wrist, and then amazingly, onto Hermann’s.

Hermann shivered at the odd sensation of ink swimming across his skin, feeling the prickle of miniature claws creep along his arm. The tattoo looked alien there, colorful and bright against his pale skin.

Newton gave him a dazzling smile that stunned Hermann for a moment. “Pretty awesome, huh?”

Hermann twisted his arm around in amazement. “Yes…” he said softly, “it is.”

Onibaba roared tinnily in agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

The bone slums were a thick, crowded maze of smoke and neon that wrecked hell on Newt’s senses. Everywhere he turned was another brightly lit shop or seedy corner cast starkly in darkness, eyes seeming to follow him everywhere. Newt felt the sensation of being watched prickle on the back of his neck constantly, and he summoned his tattoos to the very surface of his skin, ready to pop out and defend him at any moment. Of course, they couldn’t do any actual damage, but it was nice to have the fear factor as a backup.

The feat he’d performed with the massive Spinejackle avatar a few weeks ago had been taxing as hell, and Newt wasn’t prepared to do it again. Summoning corporeal forms of his tattoos was easy the smaller they were, but he doubted that a tiny Onibaba was going to intimidate anyone.

As Newt slipped into the apothecary, he twisted the red bands of ink around his wrists nervously. The whole place looked shady as hell, and he did _not_ trust that guy at the counter. Of course, the moment he mentioned Hannibal Chau’s name, the man’s smile grew even chillier.

 _I’m gonna die,_ Newt thought as he stepped towards the parting shelves of kaiju viscera, _and I can’t even find some way to make it Hermann’s fault._

His next thought is that he definitely had died, because this place was holy-fucking-mother-heaven.

A practical museum of Kaiju parts were spread all over the room. Men and women in protective gear and various forms of bdsm fetish clothing worked on everything from still-living skin parasites, to an entire cuticle. The entire place was draped in red and gold, looking like a horrifying mix of tacky and regal. It seemed to be a cross between a showroom and a workshop, not fitting the intimidating style at all. 

The odd thing, Newt noticed, was the strange slowness of the workers. Their skin was pale and greyish, seeming to drip off their face in thick clumps. They almost looked like corpses.

Newt fluttered around the room, maybe-sorta thinking out loud (?), but his head was buzzing too quickly to check. It felt like every section of his brain was on high alert, drinking in as much information as he could. His tattoos flashed brightly, sending off little colored sparks under his jacket.

Suddenly, someone spoke behind him, possibly as an answer to one of the billion questions he was probably voicing aloud, but Newt didn’t hear a word of it. He spun around, startled, and summoned his ink without thinking. Several translucent kaiju, each about the size of a small dog, sprung to life around him, surrounding his legs and growling dangerously.

The man who had spoken, tall and gaudy with clinking gold shoes and a strange pair of glasses, took a surprised step back. 

“Well shit,” he said gruffly, eyeing Newt’s guardians with interest. “What the hell are those?”

Newt glanced down, a little surprised himself. “What? Oh-uh, those are my- uh- things,” he stuttered, maybe a little cowed by this guy. 

“Your things,” the man said flatly, clearly unimpressed with Newt’s explanation. He nodded.

“Yes. My things,” Newt said. “Please don’t kill me.”

The strange man raised a bushy eyebrow. “Well that depends,” he said. “Who are you, what are you, and what do you want?”

Newt blinked. “Uh, Newt Geiszler, Corporealist, and I’m looking for Hannibal Chau. I- I assume you’re him?”

“Who wants to know?”

Yamarashi growled menacingly, and Newt felt a surge of courage run through him. He tilted his head cockily. “I really can’t say.”

The man drew a short, black stick from his pocket, and in one fluid motion, flipped it open to reveal a knife, which he proceeded to shove up Newt’s nose. Newt yelped in pain, the kaiju around him moving into a hissing frenzy as he yelled, “Stacker Pentecost sent me!”

The blade was removed, and Newt clutched at his face gingerly. “Ow! Jesus Christ, dude- so I guess you’re Hannibal Chau! Fuck!”

Chau laughed cruelly. “You like it? I took it from my favorite historical character, and my second favorite Schezuan restaurant in Brooklyn.”

Newt rubbed at his nose. “Y’know, for a famous necromancer and all that, you really seem to like killing people, huh?”

“It’s a gift, kid.”

“No offense, man, but I wouldn’t call making a bunch of dead people do your dirty work ‘a gift’.”  
Chau took a menacing step forward, so Newt quickly changed the subject. “Look, Marshall Pentecost sent me because we need a special part from you.”

“Oh really? And what would that be?”

Newt took a deep breath. Around him, his kaiju simmered. “We need a kaiju brain.”

 

No one had really thought about what would come after the war. Apparently, for Newt at least, that meant a lot of cleaning.

Hansen somehow expected the lab to be shining from top to bottom by the end of the week, as new investors poured in to fund the Shatterdome after its successful operation. K-Science was especially important as a stop on the tour, and the Marshall expected the lab, and his scientists, to be in excellent condition.

Things in the lab had been a bit less chaotic since Newt and Hermann had drifted, then made out, then ghost drifted while making out (life was always going to be complicated, it seemed). Of course they still argued, but Hermann flung chalk at him with a little less vigor, and Newt sometimes threw in a classical piece while he blasted his “Epic Cleaning Mixtape 3000”.

Plus, telekinetic sex was _amazing_.

What was less amazing, however, was cleaning up several years’ worth of kaiju innards and chalk dust, both of which having made their way into every nook and cranny in the lab. Newt had quickly become dance partners with a mop, while Hermann was juggling several dust pans at once with his powers, trying to sweep up all the chalk.

Newt sighed and leaned on his mop. “This is taking forever.”

Hermann dumped a pile of dust into the wastebin with a satisfying thunk. “That may be so, but it’s important to have a clean space for tours to see. We are trying to project the best, after all.”

“Yeah, but we’re just gonna get it dirty the moment we start working again! I mean, what’s the point?”

“Because, darling, it’s best to work through the first mess before we make a new one.”

“Y’know calling me darling isn’t gonna make this any better, right?”

“It was worth a try.”

Newt gave a small laugh and whipped out one of his inks, grabbing a pile of kaiju bones and throwing them into the designated bin. It slipped back into his arm, just in time for the lab door to open with a bang.

Hermann turned to look curiously. “Now who could that be-“

“Newton Geiszler,” rang out a frighteningly familiar voice. “I believe you have a bargain to uphold.”

Newt froze and dropped the mop. There in the doorway stood Hannibal Chau, flanked by two of his undead cronies, all armed to the teeth. He stepped slowly into the lab like he owned the place, sending a menacing glare towards Hermann.

Newt gulped. “Uh. Hi. Nice of you to stop by.”

Chau smiled coldly. “Yes. Didn’t think I was alive, did you?”

“Well-“

“Don’t lie to me, boy. You were sure as shit that I was dead. Thought you could walk out on our bargain, didn’t you?”

Newt took a step back. “I- I wasn’t aware _we_ had a bargain.”

“We do. And you’ve got something you owe me.”

Chau held out a pair of rusty handcuffs, dangling them from his fingers. Newt felt a cold pit open up in his stomach, but he still found the voice to ask, “W- What’s that?”

“You,” he said simply.

The two guards stepped forward, fists clenched and ready to fight. Newt tensed and summoned all his strength, ready to unleash a massive projection of Trespasser on the lab. Of course, he knew he probably didn’t have the energy for that at all, not after everything that had happened, but he had to try. Newt wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

The problem was, neither was Chau, but it seemed that everyone had forgotten about the other person in the room.

“I think you’ll find,” said Hermann coolly, “that Newton will not be coming with you today. Nor ever.”

Chau turned to face him, and Hermann raised his hands in fists. He laughed. “What’re you gonna do, beanpole? Clock me?”

In response, Hermann threw a chair at his face.

Chau went down like a bowling pin, his two guards rushing to his aid. The taller one summoned a ball of fire and flung it at Hermann, who yanked a metal tray from Newt’s table and used it as a shield, the flame bouncing off. He grabbed the pyrokenetic with his telekinesis and raised them into the air, bringing them down hard and throwing them into a pile with Chau.

Then, he turned to the shorter of the two, who used their powers to yank the metal tray out of Hermann’s grasp and bend it into a large metal ball. Hermann stumbled forward, but caught his balance and summoned a pile of scalpels into a line, before shooting them like bullets at the guard. They rolled onto the floor and dodged, but one managed to slice their shoulder, and they shouted in pain. 

Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Hermann grabbed them and threw them at Chau, who was just beginning to rise, sending the two slamming into each other and toppling to the floor. Then, Hermann picked up all three of them and shoved them out of the room, slammed the door shut, and locked it.

Newt’s mouth dropped open. He hurried over to where Hermann was standing, leaning heavily on his cane, and grabbed his free hand. “Holy shit,” he said excitedly, “babe, that was amazing!”

Hermann gave him a wry smile. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about, Newton. I wasn’t going to let them take you, plain and simple.”

“Yeah,” Newt said, “but you just- you just kicked their asses! That was straight up the coolest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around Hermann, bringing him in for a joyful kiss. Hermann was still warm with energy from the fight, and Newt’s tattoos sang happily and squirmed around his chest. He kissed Hermann strongly, more than a little nervous from what had almost been his kidnapping. Hermann just sighed happily in reply and placed a tingling hand on the small of Newt’s back.

When they broke away, Newt gently rested his forehead against Hermann’s. “I kinda like you being protective of me,” he said.

Hermann grasped his hand. “I always will be, Newton.”


End file.
